The Survivors [Volume 1]

Alone, in the Cold

                                                                                      ~9 Years Later~

          He was sitting on the ledge of a run down, probably all not-that safe wooden shack. Small clouds of vapor surrounded his mouth as he breathed in the frigid air. Although over time he had gotten used to, and adapted to it, he still hated how cold it was. And it was this cold all, the, time. Apparently, this was a place known as "The Artic", which was always covered in snow, and never "warm". whatever that word meant. They weren't at the worst part, luckily, seeing as they had a good number of forests around, providing the village, which was around half a mile away, with enough firewood to keep them warm all year around.

          He himself didn't really go to the village very often... at least visibly. He would sneak around there from time to time, which had provided him with a few things, such as food, some black rock material that turned out to be called coal, and cloth that he had used to fashion clothing, mixing the brown patches with the blue pieces he had been wearing. He hadn't minded tearing them up, seeing as they didn't fit anymore. He was fully clothed, though, even if it wasn't the prettiest sight. The most valuable thing he had gotten from the village wasn't anything physical, however. For him, the best things he had gotten was knowledge, even if not everything he learned was all that useful in his situation. But he knew basic life skills, at least. Such as making a fire, how to hunt, things like that. Although, no one had taught him any of that per say. It was more of him learning by seeing it happen. 

          Those who lived in the village weren't exactly... like him. Or more accurately, he wasn't like him. When he had first arrived in the snowy tundra a few miles away from the town, he had found it odd that he had been the only squared thing as far as the eye could see; although at first it had just been the snow-covered landscape, and the sun. But once he had seen the outline of what he was soon to learn were buildings, he had found out just how little he fit in. The houses were also not squared, with rough edges, round corners and wood pieces, you name it. And then there were the people, who also were not square. He had tried to approach someone; he had been five after all and had no idea where he was and why he was there. It had not gone well then, or any of the other times he tried. So, after a few months of trying, he mostly stuck to being alone. No one had ever actually attacked him or anything, but the word "freak" and "weirdo" and "block head" were used quite often. The past nine years in the cold hadn't helped improve his look either, with messy hair, ragged clothes, and the fact that parts of his black hair, along with a few bits of skin, were now either a soft blue or bluish gray, which he referred to as frost scars. They didn't cause all that much discomfort... anymore. 

          He stretched his arms out behind his back, while rolling his head on his shoulders, doing his best to de-stress any of his tight muscles. The cold air often made his body feel stiff, so he tried not to sit still for too long, if he could help it. It wasn't like there was much for him to do. He shook out his legs a bit, before jumping off the some eight-foot structure, landing in a roll, and began to make his way towards the distant village. It wasn't a very long walk, maybe a quarter of a mile, so it didn't take long for him to the reach the outskirts. He began to move in more of a stealthy fashion, not really wanting to deal with being scorned today. He made his way to the side of the outermost house, got on a stack of barrels, and jumped, grabbing the ledge of the roof and pulling himself up. Once he had his footing, he began to make his way from roof to roof, which was a bit hard, seeing as many of them were sloped to prevent too much snow build up. He had gotten good at it over the years though, and the people of the town hardly ever looked up. Their huskies, however, were sometimes an issue, seeing as dogs had pretty good senesces of smell, after all. They used them as sled dogs, seeing as there wasn't many options for transportation in a frigid environment like this. 

          He was looking for anything that may have been left in alleys, crouching down and looking over the ledges, before leaping to the next one. Sometimes he found nothing, as it seemed was going to be the case today. Although sometimes he got lucky, like the cloth he had used to mend his clothing over the years, as well occasionally finding food. He did have to duck down a few times, but overall, it was going well. As he went, though, he began to notice more and more people heading toward the edge of town, west from the side he had approached. He made his own way over, still sticking to the rooftops, until he got to the last house before the town gave way to the snow expanse of the tundra. Many of the people below were looking out towards the tundra, while the town leader seemed to be speaking with... someone he couldn't really see, due to the crowd. When he looked out to where everyone else seem to be, his body felt an odd stabbing of some emotion he couldn't identify. Out in the snow, in the shape of a perfect rectangle, was some sort of blue structure. It seemed to just be a thick wall, with some blue colored glass filling the rectangular gap.